


The Little King

by She_sees_in_the_dark



Series: Things Just Kinda Happen to Cloud, Huh [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Accidentally Gathering an Army, Accidentally becoming a Warlord, BAMF Cloud Strife, BAMF Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Cloud Strife Being An Asshole, Cloud Strife Is So Done, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack with a Straight Face, Drastic Measures that made sense to Cloud at the Time, Enemies to Friends, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Magic put to strange uses, Not Really Character Death, Overprotective Not-Parents, Spells that probably don't work like that, Time Travel, Time Travel with no fucks left to give, Warning: Hojo (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_sees_in_the_dark/pseuds/She_sees_in_the_dark
Summary: Gaia sends Cloud back in time-- Jenova is the one to turn him into a child.Well. Physically into a child. She doesn't manage to effect his mind. And with this small failure on her part, the story takes a sharp turn to the left.Cloud was sent back in time in the desperate hope of saving the world.It helps that he accidentally acquires the most dangerous army in Gaia.
Series: Things Just Kinda Happen to Cloud, Huh [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017346
Comments: 117
Kudos: 517





	1. Of Time Travel, Arson, and Unfortunate Encounters

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Saving Subject C](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719156) by [AimeeLouWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AimeeLouWrites/pseuds/AimeeLouWrites), [She_sees_in_the_dark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_sees_in_the_dark/pseuds/She_sees_in_the_dark), [TheBog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBog/pseuds/TheBog). 



> Largely inspired by the shared work of "Saving Subject C" and one of the conversations the writer's group had while batting around ideas. Please check out that story if you haven't yet! Though things take a sharp turn later on. 
> 
> With particular thanks to the Writer's Group and especially TheBog and AimeeLouWrites, for letting me steal this. You guys are the BEST.

Cloud came to in the snow on the slopes of Mt. Nibel, and he was grateful for that. His head was pounding, and he was pissed.

His clothing no longer fit, and his sword was far too large for him. He stared at both for a long moment because that was a more comfortable thought than looking at his hands, which were too small, too smooth, the skin too tight.

He was a child. He would have screamed had he not been on the mountain, because the snow was a hazard he did not intend to provoke. Instead, he stared for a long moment, breathing hard… and packed the fury and the confusion away for later.

There was work to be done, and if he focused on that, he could make this work. He was still enhanced—he took a moment and considered his options, took stock. He had all his gear. He had all his enhancements—he didn’t like the method, but he knicked the back of his forearm and he healed at the pace he’d grown accustomed to.

….. Well then. He could work with this then.

He cast mini on his clothes and his armor and his sword, and after a moment, he went down the mountain, in gear that fit and with a blade he could carry.

***

He hit the manor first, because he would attract attention as soon as he started trashing places, and the manor would take longer. There was nothing in the reactor that he wanted to save, after all.

He took Cosmo Memory and Odin and everything else from the safe, stepping over the corpse of the monster to do it. He was glad but surprised he had remembered the combination, but it made things easier. He could do without the key, but it was easier, much easier.

He kicked open Vincent’s coffin a moment later. “No, don’t bother with the dramatics. I’ve got all the time in the world, but no patience left, so here’s what I know and why you should listen. I know you’re Vincent Valentine. I know Hojo did this to you—I know you consider it to be fair recompence for what you failed to do, which is to say, save Lucrecia, and her son, from Hojo. I just don’t care at the moment. I know where the lady vanished to. I can help you find and kill Hojo, and I’m likely to run into the lady’s… Son. You should get out of there and join me, but not just because of that.”

“Please don’t start with the offer I can’t refuse lines, I was a Turk, I know them all.” Vincent managed, still blinking a lot, and alright, Cloud looked like a child. But he was still listening. Maybe the shock and awe approach was the best if he wanted people to take him seriously.

“No. I’m not making that kind of offer. Traveling with me is on the table. But, me _not_ burning this manor down right now isn’t. So… I guess what I’m saying is, it would be cool if you would join me, but unless you want to die—and in spite of appearances, I think what you want is to atone—you should get out.” And he turned on his heel and left.

“Boy, wait—“ He could hear the man clambering out, presumably to catch him and demand answers, because that was fairly reasonable when a child made threats of arson—but he was not a child, he was a survivor of Hojo’s lab and the end of the world, and he knew how to use his enhancements better than this Vincent did. He remembered what he had been like, fresh from the coffin, and he had no real chance to catch up until they were outside. “This isn’t ill-advised?”  
“It’s ill-advised to leave it standing. He uses this place. It’s remoteness lets him get away with things he otherwise… might not.” Because there was no real guarantee that he wouldn’t be allowed to get away with it, was there? He might not be able to do what he had done to him and Zack in Shinra Tower… but then again…

Still, the thought clearly gave Vincent some pause—he at least might have been saved with greater scrutiny. He had friends in high enough places that they might have gotten upset, had they known. He finally offered a small nod before continuing. “Shinra will come to see what has happened. They may be angry.”

“Which is why I’ll give them a show up-mountain when the time is right—to prove that the town isn’t involved.”

Vincent gave him a narrow look. “I meant that this plan constitutes danger to you.”

“What else is new? You’re not the only one who’s been through Hojo’s circus. They’d want me anyway, and I am not letting… this place already burns every night in my nightmares. The town, I mean. The Manor… I don’t usually have dreams that good.” He summoned Phoenix, then tossed Vincent Odin as the great bird dove, wings aflame. “Here.”

The man’s eyebrows rose. “I have not agreed to travel with you.”

“It’s yours regardless, but summoning it’s a brute. You have the mana to deal with it. Can’t summon more than one without ‘em getting pissy about it, and I’m not giving up Phoenix. So you may as well have it at your disposal. Call it a gesture of solidarity—from one survivor to another, Hojo is a piece of work.” The great bird took another pass—the building was burning merrily now, with it’s blazing bulk between them and the town.

Vincent took the materia—a little cautiously, but that was to be expected. Weighing it in his hand, he looked closer at the form in front of him. “You… aren’t actually a child, are you?”

“Don’t know if you mean that literally or metaphorically. Either way, no. I’m twenty-fucking seven.”

“Hojo?”

“This isn’t what he was aiming for, but it certainly wouldn’t be possible without his ‘help’. And I’m taking it more personal by the second.”

Vincent considered, watching the manor burn. “Say… I was willing to join you. In the hopes of taking bloody vengeance on Hojo and learning about Lucrecia. What would your first task be for me?”

Cloud paused, blinking. He hadn’t really thought of it like that. But… he had commanded Vincent before.

“I’m going to go up the mountain and wait near the reactor. Stay near town, keep an eye on things, you were a Turk, I’m sure you can figure out when whatever forces Shinra sends to investigate arrive. Send up a fireball and change locations—I’ll start the show with a bang.”

“And if you encounter trouble?”

“I’ll be fine, just don’t get caught. I can handle myself but getting captured is a mess neither of us want.”

Vincent nodded, slowly. “I can avoid that easily enough.”

***

It was a good plan. Would have worked too.

Except for several things. First—the Shinra investigators arrived when he was halfway up the mountain. He had no idea how they had gotten there while the wreckage was still smoldering, but he could only grit his teeth and make tracks.

Burning the reactor was… less eventful than he might have liked, actually. He checked to see if she was in, of course—felt the prickling in the back of her neck, Reunion trying to happen, and… sure enough, when he stared long enough, she blinked in her tank and started to smile.

He smiled back. Enraged. “You did this to me. I’m feeling pretty good about returning the favor. It won’t kill you, I know, but it sure as shit won’t feel good. And I want you to hurt.” It wasn’t pretty, but it was honest. And… he was talking to a parasitic bacterial colony. She-It, wasn’t worthy of his pity.

He summoned Phoenix inside the reactor, and watched as it turned everything, alien parasite, monsters, the inner workings of the reactor, some of the mako in holding tanks, and when it was all far, far too far gone to be stopped, he turned his back and left, pretending he couldn’t hear the bitch’s screams.

He blamed her for not paying attention to the fact that the feeling didn’t fade—when he looked out and saw the SOLDIERs standing across the catwalk above the mako in the antechamber of the reactor as he meant to leave. Two of them, one in a modified uniform. A first then, and not a normal one. Given that they stood shoulder to shoulder, and the second had an atypical sword hilt—two swords actually, one at his waist and one at his back, that from a distance looked a lot like the Buster, probably both Firsts. No one else really got away with modifying their uniform, except that one crazy bastard on his motorcycle.

Best to just let him.

He sighed loudly, knowing he could hear him, but didn’t hear the third member of their team until he had walked out onto the catwalk to join them. Sephiroth. He had been perched above the door—dropped to standing on the catwalk behind him so he couldn’t retreat.

He was grateful, suddenly, for the fire and the sounds of destruction as the reactor slipped ever closer to catastrophic failure. They had time, to be sure, but… this meant they couldn’t hear the panic in his heartbeat. He walked midway out, splitting the distance between the danger he knew and the two dangers he didn’t, keeping his head slightly turned so he could read the shock on all their faces… and more importantly, so he could react in time if they moved. For now, shock—his appearance-- held them all paralyzed.

“You shouldn’t go in there. Unless you have a lot more than a bucket brigade, a Shiva Summon and a lot of Ice materia to back you up, it’s way past the point of no return.”

“Kid, who are you?”

He frowned at the black-haired man. Something about him… no, it wasn’t important. “I’m not a kid, I just look like one. Thank your Science Department, specifically Hojo, for that. I’m twenty seven.”

“But—” They stared. He stared back at them. The man beside the first to speak, the redhead, took pity on his friend, shook his head and stepped closer.

“Why don’t we start with names and head back to town?”

“You can have my name if you like—I’m Cloud. But I’m not going anywhere with you. My time with the Science Department wasn’t exactly willing and I’m not going back to hell just because you ask nicely. Who the hell are you? Minus the silver haired one, I know that asshole.”

That bothered the redhead, but what he said is “I’m Genesis, this is Angeal.”

“I’d say nice to meet you, but I really hope you go away and the sooner the better.”

“Let’s say we believe you—” Angeal started, clearly not—

Sephiroth finally, finally spoke. It made him straighten and reach for his sword, but they had the sense not to approach, so that was fine. “We don’t believe you, for the record, child. If Hojo had that kind of power he’d be crowing about it like Chocobo stud in rut.”

Was that… profanity? From Sephiroth? He had heard he was different before he changed but this felt extreme. Like he was actually… human. “I don’t care if any of you believe me. But this wasn’t what Hojo meant to do, and he may not have realized what happened yet. Might be you also need to be swimming in mako and alien genetics to make it work…” He shrugged. “They made a mistake, didn’t realize I kept my mako strength. That cost em.”

Sephiroth actually… sighed. Then aloud, but pitched to carry cleanly to his comrades, “Alright, that… does sound like Hojo then. Trip over something insanely valuable only to lose it because you’re an idiot? Hojo all over.”

Cloud… actually laughed. “While we’re at it, all of SOLDIER? He’s fucked you up with alien cells. Think on that later. Especially you, Sephiroth. It’s not good for mental stability, I’m afraid. They made clones of you. I had to put a number of them down.” 

Sephiroth made some small noise in the back of his throat Cloud read, with surprise, as horror but not shock. Angeal, however, looked like he was a child who had been told Daddy shot Santa last year with a sawed off shotgun. “Shinra wouldn’t—”

“Oh dear gods, are you an idealist? Am I dealing with an idealist?” Cloud rubbed at his eyes until his vision flashed different colors. “I am… torn between scorn and unmitigated pity. Genesis, protect your virgin minded friend. He’s precious.”

“Don’t demean him.” Sephiroth said, and Cloud was stunned again—he sounded actually irritated.

“Let me put it this way, I really, really wish he was in a position of real power at Shinra, but where he is, it’s not good for him to think like that. Particularly with what the company will do with you all. Eh. Whatever. You’ve heard who I am and why I am. You gonna piss off or are we just gonna stand here while the reactor comes down?”

Genesis put a hand on his friend’s arm (Angeal was clearly still processing), and said, in gentle tones that sounded like they were straining his throat “Regardless, we can’t simply let you run around destroying property willy-nilly—”

“Bitch, I just told you why I’m doing this—was the torture experimentation not adequate reason? Do I need to point out that by destroying his lab in the manor and the power supply for any nearby data backups, I’ve made sure he can’t do this to anyone else?” Cloud gritted his teeth. “I’ve told you how old I really am. Make your decision and attack or don’t. I’m not coming with you peacefully. Which you should hear to mean ‘not at all’.”

“… I’m starting to feel like assisting him.” Sephiroth commented again, tone mild, and Cloud blinked, a lot, in shock. Then shook his head.

“Play mind games a different day, I’m not feeling the urge to walk along into a poorly laid trap. And I’m even less inclined to cut myself off at the knees. If I get that urge, I have a sword, I can do it with less fanfare.”

Angeal seemed to have recovered somewhat. “Okay, but… look, lets say we believe you. You still can’t wander around on your own—You look like a child, but you also have clear mako glow, enhancements… Shinra will track you easily.”

“And Hojo will only be more desperate to regain you if you really have escaped him and destroyed his research. You can’t hold out against everything he can do forever, Cloud—you need a plan.”

“So I should walk back arm in arm with Shinra’s top attack dogs—I mean retrievers—no maybe it’s attack dogs, whistling and skipping as you arrange for me to be locked up in a brand new mako tank for the rest of my days except when Hojo slabs me to cut me up? Thanks, you sound just like the guys who put us in there in the first place. Help me out here, because I had a friend sacrifice himself so I could get free of Shinra. If you want me to cooperate all that badly, give me an option that doesn’t obviously end with me naked on a table again.”

“We wouldn’t—”

“Maybe you wouldn’t. But you aren’t the chain of command, bucko.” Cloud shook himself, loosening up his muscles. “Shinra doesn’t own me because Hojo fucked me over and you don’t own me just because I look like a kid. If you think you do, I have a pointed rebuttal to make.” He pulled the sword free of it’s harness. “Let me be absolutely clear. Any of you lay a hand on me and I will hurt you badly. I will be trying to kill you.”

The redhead looked irritated now. “We’re Shinra’s top Firsts—surely you can see your odds are better trusting us than just trying to fight us all or staying in an exploding reactor!”

“It’s because you’re Shinra’s Firsts that I can do no such thing. But you’re right—time is short and frankly, I’m not confident in this body’s exact abilities anymore.”

Angeal let out a slow breath, features softening with relief as Cloud sheathed Fusion. “Thank the gods. I’m glad you’ve decided to be reasonable—”

“Oh, I doubt you’ll see it that way.” Cloud said, and hopped up on the catwalk railing. Angeal let out a strangled shout, Genesis froze, horrified, and Sephiroth—he was closer than he thought he had been, one hand outstretched. “Every other time I swam in mako, I lived. Better odds than Shinra.”

And everything happened at once. Cloud kicked backwards—because if the Planet was going to put hm in this situation, then it was going to have actually work with him, damn it, and he was gonna call that bluff, and a small explosion—a forerunner—finally, finally hit the reactor, sending debris flying and knocking Angeal and Genesis back—and Sephiroth flung himself right over the catwalk edge after him without thought, catching him up in an embrace and twisting so his back would hit the mako first.

Cloud realized he was trying to protect him half a minute after he had drawn a dagger and stabbed Sephiroth twice with it on the way down.


	2. Of Mako and Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the fall, many things happen at once. 
> 
> Only one of them is reaching the mako.

“Don’t—” Genesis lunged forward, reaching as Sephiroth vanished over the edge— the flash of silver and then—

Gone.

A moment later Angeal grabbed him, presumably to pull him back from the edge—the catwalk was bucking under their feet, and things were falling—“We can come back to look but if we fall in after them and get mako poisoning, we’ll all die! We can’t—”

It was half reflex. But only half. Gen lashed out— twisted around, pushing Angeal away, hard, he staggered—They’d done it a dozen times, on level ground, after a fight—he knew better, but he’d done it, and nothing had ever happened. It had been okay.

Angeal staggered backward, because as he pushed him the walkway bucked again, and he fell back—and steel fell from above, striking his head, tearing into his chest, blood flowing—Angeal was unconscious before he started to crumple, before the blood came in pulsing waves, before Genesis screamed and flew forward, only just catching him before he, too, fell into the mako.

He could see the little points of blond and silver, so far beneath, but he couldn’t reach them—had to get Angeal healed, had to stop the bleeding… had to get away from the falling reactor to do it. If… if he and Angeal had been… okay. He could have searched the reactor, once it calmed down. Could have searched the pit.

If Angeal had been standing where he was before he pushed him, the chunk of metal would never have made contact.

_His fault._

_It wasn’t supposed to be like this._

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” he whispered, and fled. Praying that Angeal, at least, would live.

***

Mako was thick. Like pudding. And like pudding, or water, when you struck it at speed, it could pretend to be solid for the merest breath.

Sephiroth’s back hit the mako with a crack—he jerked and gasped as they sank beneath the surface, Angeal and Genesis shouting somewhere far above. Cloud swore, and hopped away from the man before the mako engulfed them both.

It still did, of course. Swimming in mako was and was not like swimming in water. It was somehow always warmer than it should have been, like blood, and thicker, heavier.

And that was _before_ the voices kicked in.

_Monster,_ the voices sang as the silver haired man thrashed before going still, probably catatonic with mako poisoning. _Monster! Destroyer! Bastard son of the Planet!_

Cloud reached out with one hand, on instinct as much as anything else—

_Coward!_

_Traitor!_

_Kill him! Killhimkillhimkillhimkill—_

“No yet. He’s not that yet.” Fingers hooked around pauldron. It was enough. The mako was buoyant even if it hated Sephiroth. Even if he hated Sephiroth.

Something exploded above them. It seemed a long ways away. 

_Murderer!_

He flinched, took a breath, and started to swim. Sephiorth… last time he fell in here it was bad, right? Right? “Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him, not yet. Don’t kill him here. He is a man now. Men can be dealt with.” He slurred out as he swam. He’d certainly gained an understanding of both mako and the lifestream through too many exposures. “Don’t kill him. Make him yours instead.”

_Monster!_

_Alien!_

“So am I… just a little. Jus.. just a little. If you kill him, who knows how he’ll come back?” he asked the liquid around him. It had turned pink with Sephiroth’s blood, but he couldn’t turn back and hold the wound shut without stopping swimming. He thought that might be Sephiroth’s… minions? Yelling somewhere far, far away. “He already died here once. That went badly. So we need to do something else. Right?”

Sephiroth groaned, yards away at the end of his arm. Cloud raised his head to look back at him and was shocked to see the man’s eyes were still focusing marginally on him. Usually fresh injuries made mako absorption faster. “You… hear them too?”

Mako absorption. Of course he heard that. Ugh. If this was what being an Ancient was like then Cloud had no idea what the fuss was about. Or how any of them were sane enough to do shit. Cloud paused, then looked away. “Just press your injury shut, idiot.”

_Killhimkillhimkillhimkill—_

“Why—”

“Oh, Shiva’s sake. You had to have a serious injury at least once in your life. What the hell. You have to know how to deal with this. Shut up, hold the injury closed, and let me get you to shore.”

Sephiroth’s gaze was somewhere between ‘blank’ and ‘sad’. “I don’t… understand. I don’t—"

“You know what? Fine. Bleed out. Just do it quietly.” He had Barrier, of course, but couldn’t recall if it was equipped properly. If Seph’s idiot friends were still nearby, he didn’t hear them anymore. Between the reactor falling to pieces and the mako and the fall itself, it was reasonable to assume they were dead already. And dangerous to stay. “There’s more important shit going on than your mako induced mental crisis, and you wouldn’t be in this situation if you weren’t an idiot.”

Sephiroth. Friends. How’s that for an alien concept? He found himself giggling wildly. They needed… what. They needed—

_KILLHIMHILLHIMKILL—_

No, that wasn’t it. They needed to get out of the mako. They needed… shelter from the falling reactor.

His head ached with exhaustion and confusion. It was so hard to focus.

There were… out here, instead of the reactor proper, there was a lot of rocks he could climb up onto. But that would leave him exposed to the fiery bits of steel that were coming down with increasing frequency—and it was going to come down in big sheets, anytime now.

There—a slight overhang where the mako had started to make a cave in the stone walls of the pit, with a stone bank under it. Not much, but maybe enough. Each stroke of arms and legs felt like a war. But he reached it.

Cloud pulled himself up on the rock, dragging sephiroth with him- the man had passed out but had the good sense to do it with his chest up, so when he floated he could breathe. Another chunk of reactor exploded and came falling past them, and the resultant wave of mako sprayed them down again, left cloud shivering. His head was spinning- when he collapsed, he would collapse hard. Probably sleep for days.

Why not let Sephiroth drown? He did want it, in spite of what he told the mako-voices. More with each pull farther onto the stone. He was so tired.

He had stabbed him after all. It would have been easy. No one would even really blame him. He would be disoriented, possibly for days after he let himself relax. It was a wonder he was this clearheaded now.

This man had killed his mother.

His mother was alive, down in the valley. She wouldn’t know him.

Sephiroth had died here before. It hadn’t ended there.

Sephiroth was still breathing and bleeding.

Sephiroth was a monster. Sephiroth was a sadist. Sephiroth enjoyed his pain in particular.

Sephiroth had thrown himself into a mako pit and a stabbing to rescue someone he thought of as a child.

Cloud cursed, bitter, head spinning. He had one memory of Sephiroth before he lost his mind, made hazy by the trauma, the pain, mako, time and telepathically stolen memories. _"You come from this town, don’t you? Take time to visit your family. You have leave."_

Cloud cursed and fired up his heal materia, almost passed out casting it. A moment later, a hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder—he jerked away, too mako-dull to react properly.

Chaos. No, Vincent. Vincent didn’t have control enough to let Chaos out that early, right? Right?  
“We need to get you out of here.”  
True, but— “Get him out of here first, then come back for me.”

“That’s hardly—”

“Take my heal materia and fix him when you have us both out… not… gonna be conscious much longer.” His chest felt… heavy. Like breathing was hard.

“But—”

“Use my materia. It… mastered. Keep… him… alive.” His head was pounding, and his eyelids felt heavy. He could shut them now, right? Right? “His name is Sephiroth. He is Lucrecia’s son.”

Vincent would listen to that. He shut his eyes.

***

Somehow, it all came back to that.

Vincent managed to keep the mako enhanced boy… mako enhanced man, if he was to be believed… and he did believe, or mostly did—from falling back into the mako as it writhed.

Chaos had been… unusually cooperative on the matter of saving the not-boy. But it recoiled at the notion of saving the man.

He was Lucrecia’s son. Now that it had been said, he could see it easily enough—in the lips, and the cheekbones and the angle of the eyes. Not in the hair… that was more like….

No. No, that was wishful thinking. She would have told him. She wouldn’t have left him.

Would she have known?

“I am saving both of them,” he told his demons, firmly. Because either way, not again, not again, not again—“I will not leave either to die here.”

And he stood there, surrounded by mako and fire and the odd explosion, fighting his demons into submission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I really hope this made your day a little better. Thank you for taking the time to read it. I appreciate it. 
> 
> If you really enjoyed this, please leave a comment of some kind. Any kid. I may not always hop to with fixing things, but I appreciate the feedback, even when it's criticism. And I'm sorry it's so short-- this seemed good in terms of stopping places, and Cloud's... conflict seemed to need center stage. 
> 
> May the floods not wash you away, but rather show you who and what you really are. May they expose for you the foundation from which you must build. 
> 
> Stay safe.


	3. Of Privacy, Care, and Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are good reasons to undress someone. Parents change diapers and pajamas, providing what the child cannot do for themselves. Lovers tear clothes off each other-- an expression of trust and of enthusiasm. Medics cut clothes away from injury, revealing what needs healing without worsening it. 
> 
> There are very good reasons to undress someone. There are of course, also bad ones. Clothes are the flimsiest and final layer of protection we have before the pain starts. So one hopes that if you are naked, it's with someone worthy of trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um. Naked people. Nothing untoward. Apart from implied Hojo at the end. You were warned.

Cloud woke up naked, which would have alarmed him a lot more if he hadn’t been under… something. A blanket?

A blanket. Hojo didn’t seem to believe in those, so… not Hojo.

Birdsong. Sunlight, dull, streaming through a window.

Definitely not Hojo’s lab.

“Sorry,” Vincent’s voice. “I thought it would be better not to leave you in your mako soaked clothes. They’re drying—I apologize for the… breach of privacy, but I also washed the mako off you. Seemed wiser than letting you sit in it. Letting someone continue to absorb mako is... bad.”

“No need. I’ve been in a mako coma before… This is better.” He sat up slowly. They were in a house… he was on a couch. It was very dusty.

“There was only one bed…. He being taller than you…”

It was a good point. Cloud rubbed at his eyes. “Finally, an advantage to being like this.” He wasn't likely to crick his back. It wasn't much, but it was something. His head was spinning, but only a little. And… the ringing in his ears… the sense of being long distant from his body….

Honestly? It could be a lot worse.

“How’s Sephiroth?”

“Healing, at least. Did you do that?”

Ahhh. Of course this Vincent would be… protective. “I told them that under no circumstances was I going to Shinra with them, and I displayed my weapons. He grabbed me anyway.”

“Ahhh.” Vincent paused. “Apologies. That’s—”

“It was a stupid move on my part, but I was rather intent on not going back to Hojo. And I’m afraid that I hadn’t really expected someone to grab me after I jumped off a catwalk. I reacted. I’m not proud of it. But I did warn him.”

He turned his head to look at the ex-Turk, and after a moment, the gunman nodded. “I would not have allowed myself to be taken captive by Shinra again either. Though I admit I would probably not have considered Mako to be a viable escape route.”

“I doubt you’ve been for as many swims in it as I have.” Cloud said, half amused, and to his shock, the gunman grinned at him.

Okay. Okay, maybe this would be survivable. It was going to suck, but… but that was still Vincent, even if he didn’t know him. Maybe… maybe he could make this okay. Eventually. Not today or tomorrow or the year after that. But someday, maybe this would be okay.

“That does raise the question of what we should do with Sephiroth, though,” Vincent continued after a moment. Cloud sighed, and laid back against the couch—shutting his eyes and pressuring his temples to try to ward off the coming headache. It didn’t work—it was as much mako as frustration. But that didn’t exactly help…

“Keeping prisoners isn’t exactly efficient in labor, resources or time.” What a ridiculous statement, with his voice several octaves higher than it should be. Even his voice wasn't his own anymore.

Vincent shifted, but settled into place again quietly. “I assume you aren’t suggesting the… most efficient method of dealing with it, since you wanted me to heal him.”

Cloud grimaced. “I do not kill prisoners. At least not the ones that frankly, aren’t even enemies.” _Yet._ The mako voices, which he had regulated to the back of his mind, started to chant their wrath again. “We talk to him. There are a lot of things about his past he doesn’t know. Then… he is free to go where he wants. Back to Shinra or otherwise. After he heals enough to defend himself—I’m not enough of an asshole to let a man walk back into Hojo’s care.” After that, depending on what he chose… well. There were only so many paths once he knew. One of them… one of them was the same one he walked before.

“….Thank you.” The words were surprisingly heartfelt, and Cloud glanced at Vincent sharply, though it made a sharp pain lance through his temples and the world rotated a bit strangely after that. When the place stopped rocking about (though his head was still throbbing) Vincent was next to him, one hand on his shoulders, and his face was concerned. He forced a grin at him, and after a moment the man smiled back, though not so forcefully this time. “I think maybe you overestimate your strength. Acclimatized to mako you may or may not be… but you should try to rest. Your clothes… got bigger by the way.”

Cloud hated that he had a point. He might be more mako resistant than most at this point, but that was a damn sight from ‘unaffected’.

“Let them dry like that, they’ll dry faster. I had to cast mini on my old clothes to make them fit.”

He had practice, by now, reading Vincent’s expressions. This one was more open—maybe because he still had some hope for Sephiroth.

This one actually laughed.

***

Sephiroth dreamed fitfully, his body burning. Now and then, his eyes would flutter open, but… he didn’t know if it was in the dream or the real world.

Eye watering reds—

_Her one eye—_

_The cape—His eyes? Who—_

Pain, but he was accustomed to pain. People landed lucky hits on the field. The burning—mako—had he been dosed again? Why would they need him to be stronger? He was certain he’d done well, well enough to be left alone… proven he was… strong enough?

The figure—red, and burning, moved in his blurred vision, and that was strange—the lab assistants usually only wore white. But this one was wearing black and red. That made him uneasy—not that the lab assistants were usually a delight as they were, but… but he did know them. They were a known quantity. Was it a biohazard suit of some kind?

He waited for the pain of incisions to make itself known to him, or the itch of skin trying to close around an IV. He felt only the burning of mako.

He waited for his eyes to focus, so he could see… no luck.

He despised his own helplessness.

“Easy, Sephiroth.” An unfamiliar voice rumbled—in response he realized a moment later, to his heart racing with frustration and agitation, rather than anything he had said. The way he would have responded to Genesis getting worked up. Someone enhanced then. “You fell in mako. Do you remember?”

…Fell? No… Jumped. Jumped after… the boy! Was he alright? Was he even alive? He had tried to shield him, as much as one could against mako of all things—

“Easy. Breathe.” A hand, gloved—so few of them could stand to touch casually after their enhancements, but the gloves helped—rested over his heart as if he could slow it as easily as adding a little pressure. Dissuading him from getting up-- more gently than the lab assistants would have. “You’re not going to be able to move for a bit yet, sometimes mako paralysis happens, but it’s nothing to worry about. You’ll be fine. I imagine there are things you want to know, so I’m going to try to answer the questions I’d be asking in your situation. Firstly, you’re safe. You aren’t a captive—my leader wants to make sure you know some things about your current employer before you return to them. That’s all. Secondly… yes, you are naked, but letting you sit in the clothes that were soaked in mako would have slowed down your recovery. I apologize—you’re under a blanket for now. I couldn’t find anything even vaugely your size.”

That was irrelevant. Reassuring on some basic level but irrelevant. He’d woke naked before. The boy—

“The one you dove in after is having an easier time of it than you—between the lack of stab wounds and the fact that he seems to react better to the mako. He’ll be fine.”

Fine? If Hojo hadn’t already done too much damage for it to be borne, then…

Well. That would be a miracle, and Sephiroth didn’t believe in those. Not at all.

“You might not believe me. You will when you’re able to look around—he’ll be up and about by then. He’s already woken up and spoke to me. He was calm, coherent and able to explain things to me.”

Then… then the boy would be okay. He shuddered, unable to hide the motion, and the voice chuckled, softly. “It’s alright. I’m going to try to get you to swallow some water—so don’t panic. Since this stage can lasts days, and you’ve already been out for a while… I don’t have access to IVs here. You need to drink. Try to bear with me.”

The man’s hands were careful and gentle, propping him upright and Sephiroth managed, at long last, to swallow, to the sound of gentle encouragement and reassurances. When he had swallowed enough to satisfy the blur, he felt himself being gently lowered back to the bed, blankets brought up around him when he shivered.

He was certain it was a dream. No one was this patient with invalids and no one took this much care to make them comfortable.

“Hush, Sephiroth. Try to sleep more, now. You’re safe.”

‘Who are you?’ Sephiroth tried to ask, but felt his grip on consciousness fading. But… he would ask later.

He was safe.

***

Genesis reported in in a daze, having spent all his mana, all his focus the night before, trying to heal his friend. He had managed, at least, to keep him alive—to stop the bleeding, to heal the rend in his chest, though it took all night. But Angeal hadn’t woken up yet. It wasn’t clear yet if he would. There was no hospital out here. There was only him, soaked with sweat and freezing at two AM, watching Angeal's chest rise and fall with thin breaths and too little color in his face. 

He managed to heal him enough to fly him home. Well. Not home. To the Tower.

No one was happy with him, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t happy with him either. He caught the odd glances from Turks as they piled into the helicopter to leave another day after—they didn’t have the equipment to search a reactor that had collapsed, and the only two people who could have managed it reasonably safely were both down for the count—Angeal because he was unconscious, Genesis because he needed a second man to pull a job like that, and because the healing and the lack of sleep and mana had left him numb and shaking. Tseng in particular seemed… was it pitying? Or disgusted?

He didn’t cry. He didn’t deserve to cry. Not when he climbed into the helicopter, not when the redheaded Turk asked what happened to Sephiroth, not when he watched them wheel Angeal away after they landed.

He reported to Lazard. He reported to the board. To the Turks. And endless litany of his failures playing on repeat, torn from his own throat.

No one told him how Angeal was doing. Not even when he asked.

When he was summoned down to the labs, he went quickly, leaving Veld, who had delivered the summons, in his dust. He assumed it was about Angeal. He was wrong. He realized that when he was led to a medical suite that was empty. A post mission exam. He should have anticipated that. He stripped down and hopped onto the table, as was procedure. He hated the smell of the place, and the crinkle of paper on the exam table.

He realized he was wrong yet again when he woke up, still naked in another room, strapped down, Hojo’s eyes glaring down at him.

He didn’t cry. He didn’t deserve to cry. This was his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I still exist!
> 
> I moved house and jobs on relatively short notice and just got internet back-- may be a little slow on the release of stuff for a bit, but rest assured, it's still coming. 
> 
> Feedback of all kinds is always appreciated, craved and makes me smile, so please let me know what stuck out, what disturbed you, what you enjoyed and what you imagine happening next. 
> 
> As always, thank you for spending time reading this. I hope it gave you a moment or two of joy. 
> 
> I offer you the blessing of walls raised against winter, of firm doors between you and the cold. Hear the storm howl around you to the left and to the right. remember how it sounded when the sky is clear and you are still there. You were made for the weathering of storms, for hearthfire held as a candle against the night, for teeth chattering under blankets only to wake up warm in the next dawn. Do not torment yourself with the denial of your own capabilities.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I welcome comments of all kinds-- let fire! I hope this made your day a little better. 
> 
> May you find allies in unexpected places, among the ranks of those you named your foes may they emerge, challenging and terrifying, but allies nonetheless.


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